


Pink Carnations Mean Gratitude

by ironyruinedmylife



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: (he draws on Cisco with sharpies Cisco loves it), (me too Cisco), (with a lip ring), Angst with a Happy Ending, Cisco is a florist, Florist AU, Harrison is a douche, Hartley is a tattoo artist, Hartley still has a ridiculous amount of degrees, Hartmon Week 2016, He's so tired let this boy live, M/M, abuse tw, as usual, he just like drawing more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-11 00:52:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7017616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironyruinedmylife/pseuds/ironyruinedmylife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harrison wants to buy a bouquet for Hartley, Cisco is the florist and Hartley works opposite him in the tattoo parlour. Things don't always go to plan but this isn't necesarily a bad thing...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pink Carnations Mean Gratitude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlexiaBlackbriar13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaBlackbriar13/gifts).



> Did I have to write the tattoo artist/florist AU? No. Did I want to? Debateable. Do I love this story like its my child? Absolutely. 
> 
> This is also the AU where the expected positions, IE, Cisco being the artist and Hartley being the florist who uses physics to Stop Awful Bouquets are reversed. Its also because I wanted to see Cisco's reaction to Hartley with a lip ring and tats.

Cisco frowned at the bouquet. Incorrect. The balance was _all_ wrong and the wind would make Central look like Ouran High School the second poor Caitlin walked through the door. It was times like this when Cisco was kind of glad his physics career didn’t take off, so he could save some poor, romantic soul from their impending, pollen-y doom. Being a florist required a lot more math and physics than anyone gave him credit for.   
  
“This is a _mess_.” He mumbled to himself, grabbing a few ribbons and mercilessly removing flowers, fixing the disaster in front of him into something vaguely more practical, before shoving it at Caitlin, who smiled gratefully and hurried out of the door. “Just get through the week, Francisco, Abuela will _kill_ you if you quit.” He mumbled to himself, tiredly pulling at his ponytail as the door chimed again, he rolled his shoulders and plastered on a smile that would have been real if he wasn’t so tired.  
  
“Hi, how can I help you?” He asked cheerfully as he turned and _wow,_ okay, he was intimidating. Tall and handsome in a Not Cisco’s Type kind of way. He looked like dark, smoky bars and sophistication and _trouble_. The man smiled disarmingly in a way Cisco recognised from the businessmen who had offered him a high salary in return for his body, so Cisco didn’t return it and simply inclined his head at the flowers.  
  
“Anything in particular you were looking for?” He asked. The man nodded   
  
“Anniversary’s around the corner and I wanted to do something special.”   
  
Flowers weren’t exactly _special_ , but it wasn’t like Cisco was going to point that out when the man looked like walking cash.  
  
“Okay, then,” He mumbled instead. Soon enough he had helped the man pick out something for someone who was apparently the _light of the guys life_ and who _deserved the world_. Ugh. As he was ringing the surprisingly classy bouquet up he smiled as best he could at the man with the large wallet  
  
“I’m sure she’ll love them.” He offered. The man chuckled  
  
“ _He_ will.” He replied and Cisco could have punched himself. He was pan for gods sake, he _really_ shouldn’t be the guy to presume. He just glanced up apologetically and let the man leave, watching with interest as he crossed the street and waited outside the tattoo parlour opposite Cisco’s shop for about five minutes. Then Cisco watched in surprise as the guy who ran the joint, who had to be about a year younger than Cisco himself walked out, pulling on a jacket.  
  
He blinked at the Rich Guy™, who smiled down at him and presented the flowers, and Cisco watched with a warm glow in his chest as a huge smile spread over the younger guys face, apparently he was delighted with the flowers. The smaller man reached up on his tip toes to kiss the elder man and happily took both the flowers and his hand as they walked away.  
  
It was times like this that Cisco _really_ liked his job.  
  
The next week, Cisco was restocking the flowers when he heard the door chime, and turning was sucker punched by a wave of attraction that really should have been illegal because holy fucking _damn_ , Batman, this guy was _hot_. Messy red-brown hair and big blue eyes and a shy smile and _was that a lip ring?_  
  
Cisco nearly died and went to heaven when he noticed the tattoos.   
  
A few constellations on his left wrist, a curling string of flowers twining around his ring finger and down his hand, flawlessly transforming into a… _dear god that was a Harry Potter quote_. Cisco swallowed thickly.   
  
Then his heart plummeted as he realised that this was Rich Guy’s boyfriend.   
  
_Fuck._  
  
“Hi,” Even his voice was cute. Cisco silently bemoaned his love life and smiled at the man, who offered a shy one in return “I…uh, my boyfriend bought some flowers from you a few days ago, and I, I just wanted to thank you. They were beautiful.”   
  
And sweet too. _Why_ was this his life.  
  
“Was your boyfriend tall and-”  
  
“Intimidating? Yeah, thats him.” The man laughed quietly, unsure and sweet. Cisco laughed too, guiltily seeking that smile again  
  
“Well, I can’t say I wasn’t a bit scared. Thank _you_ , anyway, I’m glad you liked them.” He offered. The man smiled at him, ducking his head  
  
“They were gorgeous…I have to go, work and everything, but, uh, thank you, again…” He glanced around awkwardly  
  
“Cisco. My name’s Cisco. Don’t you work opposite me?”   
  
“Hartley, and uh, yeah, I do. I _really_ gotta go, nice to meet you, Cisco.” And with that Hartley disappeared through the door, waving goodbye. Cisco sighed dreamily as he watched him go  
  
“See you around, Hartley.”

The next time he saw Hartley it was a few weeks later, after watching the man look increasingly tired and frustrated as he walked past Cisco’s store on his way home, his boyfriend slowly appearing less, something which Cisco tried _really_ hard not to feel good about. As it turned out, it was nothing to feel good about _at all._  
  
Hartley came barrelling into the shop just as Cisco was about to lock up for the night, wide eyed and frightened and looking like a small poke would make him cry. Cisco blinked at him  
  
“I’m sorry, I-” Hartley began to back away when Cisco stepped forwards  
  
“No, hang on, whats wrong, what happened?” He asked. Hartley blinked and heaved in a shaky breath  
  
“I didn’t know who else I could go to.” He whispered. Cisco frowned “He made me stop talking to my friends.”   
  
Stop talking to- Oh _fuck_.   
  
“Hartley, _what happened?”_ He asked gently, setting down his keys and walking closer as Hartley’s breathing started becoming panicked  
  
“I- He…Harrison made me _promise_ not to t-tell,” He stuttered as Cisco neared  
  
“Its okay, Hartley, _breathe_ , c’mon, come sit here, just breathe.” He encouraged as he made a note to never sell flowers to Shitty Men Like ‘Harrison’ ever again. “What doesn’t he want you to tell?”   
  
“I didn’t _mean_ to, a-and I found out a-and now he’s _gone_ and- and I don’t, I-I _can’t_ -” Hartley clapped a hand over his mouth and it was then that Cisco noticed the bruising on his wrist and clamped firmly down of the red hot anger coursing through his veins  
  
“It’s okay, it’s alright, Hartley, you’re _safe_ , he can’t hurt you.” He soothed, “What did you find out?”  
  
“He’s in charge o-of the particle a-accelerator, a-and it’s going to e- _explode_. And he t-told me-me not to-to say _anything_ , or-or he’d hurt m-me, but people- _people could die!”_ He glanced desperately over his shoulder like he was scared his boyfriend would be standing in the doorway. Cisco breathed in sharply  
  
“Okay, Hartley. It’s okay, you’ve done a _very_ good thing by telling me, he can’t hurt you now, I won’t let him.” Cisco stated calmly. Hartley stared at him  
  
“Promise, p- _please_ promise me-me,” He asked quietly. Cisco smiled gently  
  
“Pinky swear. So here’s what we’re going to do…”

* * *

Hartley became an almost permanent fixture in Cisco’s shop after they had it sorted out. As it turned out, ‘Harrison’ was The Harrison Wells™, world famous physicist, now abuser and sociopath. He had told Hartley that no one would believe him, except he had not thought about the fact that Hartley was Clever™, with a capital C, and would know how to get _evidence_. It didn’t hurt that Cisco was close with a certain Detective on the CCPD.   
  
So when Harrison was publicly arrested and Hartley freed from his manipulations Cisco couldn’t help the vindictive pleasure bubbling in his chest as Hartley gripped his hand like his life depended on it and the first smile in months crept onto his face. Hartley had then taken to spending his free time at the shop, exchanging fast paced Spanish debates on physics, while correcting minuscule details in Cisco’s bouquets.   
  
Hartley also began a Sharpie War in earnest, drawing little ‘tattoos’ on Cisco at every opportunity. It had begun as the Deathly Hallows symbol on his wrist, then had slowly developed until now Cisco would end up leaving work with his whole arm decorated in whatever had crossed Hartley’s mind that day.   
  
Then one day the power had gone out while they were alone in the store. It was already dark outside, and Cisco knew full well that Hartley, despite never saying anything, was scared of the dark. Something to do with his childhood and later Harrison The Douchebag We Do _Not_ Speak Of. So Cisco quickly found some candles and sat with Hartley on the cold floor as they waited for the power to come back on, playing various middle school sleepover games.   
  
Then Hartley had brought out his ever present set of sharpies.   
  
It had started innocently, Cisco would later swear, just Hartley drawing various shapes and quotes onto the palm of his hand as Cisco watched, surprised at how content he was. “Aren’t you scared? Because of the dark, I mean.” He found himself asking a few minutes later. Hartley smiled at him   
  
“No, you’re here. Why would I be scared?” He replied softly, shifting closer to begin drawing his way up Cisco’s arm. After twenty minutes had been spent in comfortable silence aside from the perpetual scratching of the sharpies and a soft melody Hartley was humming, Cisco turned to glance down at his arm, only to feel like he was only just meeting Hartley again, struck silent at the force of the _adoration_ he held for the man who was currently drawing what felt like flowers on his bicep.   
  
“Hmm,” Hartley frowned at his shoulder, before efficiently straddling Cisco’s hips, flinging an arm around his neck and continuing his work on Cisco’s collarbone and shoulder, leaving Cisco to blink in wonder at the smaller man, who’s cologne he could now smell, like bakeries and ink and _Hartley_ , who’s eyes were so intently focused on drawing carnations in pastel pink onto his neck that Cisco could trace their dance as easily as if Hartley had done it a thousand times. It felt like _home_.  
  
“I love you.” Cisco murmured. Then blinked. Hartley looked up, eyes wide and lips parted, before he leant down to finish a single line on Cisco’s jawbone and nodded  
  
“You can look now.” He stated. Cisco looked down and felt a small gasp wrench itself from his lungs. Flowers, endless, _beautiful_ strings of flowers curled their way up his arm, from his fingertips to his jawbone, where Hartley stared intently, apparently content in the silence as Cisco marvelled at how many different ways Hartley had managed to say ‘I love you’. Flowers that meant _gratitude,_ and _promise,_ and _love,_ and _hope,_ and _adoration,_ and _beauty,_ and _kindness_ and hundreds of other little pieces of Cisco that Hartley had seen and _loved_ were stained in beautiful colours onto his skin  
  
“Oh, _Hartley_ ,” Cisco breathed, glancing up to see the pink blush on his Hartley’s face, “They're _beautiful_ , _you’re_ beautiful. I love you.”  
  
“I love you too.” Hartley mumbled, smiling as Cisco pulled him down for a kiss, smiling into it as he felt Hartley gasp and arch into his touch, chasing him as he pulled away.  
  
And if the next day he had a single string of the design tattoo’d onto his collarbone, then only Hartley had to know.  
  
After all, only Hartley would see it.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment and kudos! I require validation to live so please donate to this cause.


End file.
